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My Pocket full of Songs

If I should write a song that’s gonna stand the test of time

I’d stitch it with a common thread that weaves the ties that bind.

I’ll make it sound familiar as it takes you by surprise.

It echoes of a golden age that progress left behind.

 

Its message masked in metaphors you think you’ve figured out.

We’ll keep on playing guessing games two hundred years from now.

The alpha and omega when full circle comes around.

Where present, past and future are combined.

If I should write a song that’s gonna stand the test of time.

 

If I should write an anthem that was gonna change the world

For good and for the better when it’s sung or strummed or heard.

I’d raise the bar so high and far you’d hang on every word.

I’d wrap it up in evergreen to keep it well preserved.

 

I’ll shout it from the mountains, ring it in the city streets.

You’ll memorize it proudly and you’ll spin it on repeat.

We’ll plant the seeds of harmony and grow a symphony

That spreads with a crescendo as it swirls.

If I should write an anthem that was gonna change the world.

 

So, sing it high and sing it low.

Play it fast and play it slow.

In and out and on the go

The rhythm rolls along.

Sing it here and sing it now.

Play it soft and play it loud.

Everywhere and all around

Me and my pocket full of songs.

 

If I should write a duet that could make you fall in love.

It might sound better solo on the brink of breaking up.

It’s playing on a first date in a beat-up, pick-up truck.

Reminds you of your soulmate, with a little bit of luck.

It’s crying through the fight the night you went your separate ways.

It’s dancing in each other’s eyes on someone’s wedding day.

It ripples through the silence when the music doesn’t play.

Where Valentines are swept under the rug.

If I should write a duet that could make you fall in love.

 

If I should write a melody for money or for fame

It whispers, “Pleased to meet you and I hope you’ll guess my name.”

That hellhound at the crossroads knew I’d trade my soul away,

And burn beneath the limelight like a Faustian cliche.

 

I made and spent a million in the lap of luxury.

I drank with rich celebrities and dined with royalty.

It gave me what I wanted but it cost me everything.

My purgatory forged in its refrain.

If I should write a melody for money or for fame.

 

So, sing it high and sing it low.

Play it fast and play it slow.

In and out and on the go

The rhythm rolls along.

Sing it here and sing it now.

Play it soft and play it loud.

Everywhere and all around

Me and my pocket full of songs.

 

If I should write an encore penned with three chords and the truth

I’ll craft it like a looking glass reflecting back at you.

I’d keep it short and simple, so it won’t be misconstrued.

I’d borrow something old and turn it into something new.

I’d aim to make it honest; I’d intend to keep it pure.

I’ll give it all I’ve got and always leave them wanting more.

It’s poetry in motion from a lonesome troubadour.

Remembered for his counterpoint of view.

If I should write an encore

Penned with three chords and the truth.

 

So, sing it high and sing it low.

Play it fast and play it slow.

In and out and on the go

The rhythm rolls along.

Sing it here and sing it now.

Play it soft and play it loud.

Everywhere and all around

Me and my pocket full of songs.